Comfort
by Zephyra of Breeze
Summary: There was a reason Latvia never went to Lithuania when he was upset. Nonromantic brotherly affection, Russia-Baltics creepiness. Country names used. Bad stuffs implied near the end, but only if you look...


_**A/N: Pshhhhhhht I dunno. My bestest buddy asked me for Poland Angst and we get Baltic Angst instead. Sorry guys. This fic is sort of connected to the idea of Blood Brothers, but at the last moment I decided not to make it a new chapter. But hopefully there'll be another one about Estonia at some point? And this tendency to fix instead of listen/comfort that Llet demonstrates is totally one I have :P**_

_**So, without further idiotic comments, I'd like to state I don't own Hetalia, and here's the fic you (hopefully) clicked on this link to see.**_

When Latvia was upset, he would sneak into Estonia's room in the middle of the night. Quiet as a mouse, he would creep down the hall and curl up in a ball at the foot of his older brother's bed. Estonia wouldn't say anything, just wrap his arms comfortingly around the small boy until the shaking slowed to acceptable levels. It was this simple comfort that Latvia craved. Lithuania talked too much, pointing out reasons it would be okay, offering unwanted advice. Latvia loved his eldest brother, but Estonia had, somewhere along the line, become the person he went to. As much as Latvia tried to explain it as a natural tendency, he knew it was a conscious decision. There was exactly one reason why he didn't go to Lithuania anymore.

Early in their captivity in Russia's house, Latvia had stumbled up the stairs, feeling weary and bruised. His head was bowed with exhaustion, and his eyelids were fluttering half shut already. Only his thin, shaking fingers on the stair railing kept him on track. This was the reason he didn't see Russia until he ran directly into the enormous man's shoulder.

"Eep!" The small boy reeled back from the shock, falling to the ground as his eyes snapped open.

Russia had been standing on the landing, staring out the window and into the blizzard that the fragile glass was holding back. His tranquility shattered by Latvia, however, he turned to look at the small boy, the expression on his face unfathomable.

Terrified, Latvia threw his hands over his head in defense. "I'm sorry!" he exclaimed.

There was another few moments in which neither moved, and the only sound was the hungry wind ripping at the house. Then Russia bent down, his lips curving in a smile that was at odds with his eyes. He stretched out a massive hand and lifted Latvia back to his feet.

"Do not worry about it. It has been quite the tiring day for the three of you, yes?"

Latvia mentally scrabbled for a reply, but the only words in his mind at that moment were _Oh god he hasn't let go of my shoulders yet _and _I am going to die._ Since neitherof those seemed appropriate to say in such a situation, he stayed silent.

Russia frowned, furrowing his eyebrows in concern. "You were not injured when you fell, were you?" He seemed genuinely worried about the health of his _toy_.

Under the circumstances, it was probably very impressive that instead of screaming in terror Latvia merely whimpered.

This seemed to confirm Russia's fears about the smallest Baltic. The small boy shut his eyes in terror as the tall man lifted him easily, hoisting him up so that his broad shoulder dug into Latvia's stomach.

"Do not fear, Latvia, I will take care of you." And he headed upstairs, steadying his trembling burden with one hand.

At the landing Latvia felt them take a right turn. This was wrong. He had only lived in this house for a few months but he knew already that the baltics' rooms were on the right. To the left was the guest room, Russia's bedroom, Russia's office. And—Latvia bit his lip at the realization—they had just passed the guest room.

The even up-and-down beat of Russia's steps stopped, and he opened the door of his office.

Latvia was filled with terror and the realization that he could have probably prevented this early on, if he had been able to speak. But he was too petrified even now, and besides, it was probably too late at this point. He shut his eyes again and he was deposited on a stiff sofa at the back of the room.

As soon as he was free to move, he drew his knees up to his chest and locked his arms around him, trying to hold together every bone in his body that was rattling in fear. Sitting there, he continued to shake. A long moment passed. Two. The storm was louder, here in an upstairs room. Latvia slowly opened his eyes and peeked out over his kneecaps, wondering what Russia was—_OH MY GOD!_

Russia was crouching right in front of him, staring into his face with a small smile. Latvia yelped in fear, jerking away and whacking his head against the wall behind the couch.

Any normal person would have jumped in surprise from the noise, or at least concluded from the movement that poor Latvia did not want to be this close.

Russia was not a normal person. His smile widened slightly, and he cocked his head. "Oh good, you are conscious. I was beginning to worry, just a little." He reached out a hand and cupped Latvia's cheek. "Did you know you are very cute? I have not decided who my favorite is, of the three of you."

Russia seemed to have forgotten why they were in this room, and that Latvia was supposedly injured. He smiled at the small nation for just a moment more before leaning forward and pressing icy lips to Latvia's pale curls. Then, without looking back at the tormented child, he got to his feet and swept from the room.

The pale scarf flickered against the doorframe and vanished, and yet Latvia did not feel safe. He waited, holding his breath, until he could no longer hear Russia's footsteps. Then he leapt to his feet and dashed down the hall. Upon reaching Lithuania's room, he threw the door open and collapsed on his brother's bed.

"Latvia?" He looked up. Lithuania was perched on a chair by the window, mending a rip in a large jacket that was obviously Russia's. He felt the tears he'd been able to hold hostage in the corners of his eyes starting to bubble over and slide down his cheeks.

"H-he… Russia, he…" Latvia stumbled over his words.

Lithuania dropped the jacket and hurried to sit by his adoptive brother. "Are you alright? What did he do?"

"He said…" Latvia gulped slightly, scrubbing at his running nose with the heel of his palm. "he c-called me cute, and…"

"Did he hit you?" People always assumed Latvia was injured. They didn't realize the shaking and stammering were due to his terror.

"N-no… he didn't hurt me at all…. He just… he kissed me…" As the words left his mouth Latvia buried his face in his hands, absolutely unaware of how it sounded to the older nation.

He felt the mattress shift as Lithuania stood up. "Don't worry, Latvia." The small boy peered out through a triangle gap between his fingers, one lavender eye blinking at Lithuania.

The brunette smiled down at him. "I'll try to talk to Russia-san for you, and make sure he knows that you're much too young for that, alright?" Despite his cheerful tone, there was an undercurrent of dread.

"B-but…" Latvia tried to find a way to say that Russia hadn't meant it like that. Probably.

"Stay here, alright?" Latvia nodded obediently, and Lithuania left the room.

The blizzard outside only grew angrier that night. Latvia, under orders, did not leave his brother's room and instead curled up in a nest of covers, waiting for Lithuania to come back. He didn't see his brother again until the next morning.

No, it wasn't safe to go to Lithuania for comfort anymore.


End file.
